


Close Your Eyes (It's All Gonna Be Alright)

by notjustalittlegirl



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Bad parent Henry Laurens, Beating, Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Poor John, TW for like everything that happens, rated m to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustalittlegirl/pseuds/notjustalittlegirl
Summary: "When the door shut as John entered, however, he was not expecting to be shoved violently against the entryway wall, Henry Laurens' face less than an inch from his own." In which Henry Laurens is really a terrible father.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I complain about living here, my town is actually pretty cool. Case in point, every November there is a day where kids in grades 7-12 can go to a local university and take some courses taught by undergraduate students. This year, they were offering a course on John Laurens, so obviously I went.  
> I learned that, while John was a very strong person, one of his worst qualities was that he was very pliant to his father's will, and did just about whatever Henry Laurens wanted. Thus, I got inspired and produced this terrible, terrible thing. 
> 
> Title from Church Bells by Carrie Underwood.
> 
> I do not own Hamilton, or any of these historical figures. Nor do I promote any of the words and actions said or taken by Henry Laurens in this fic. Please do not read if you are easily triggered, and this is a work of fiction that I am making no money from. 
> 
> Now that we've gotten all the legal blahs out of the way, allons-y!

John Laurens always dreaded coming home from school. He liked being at school, more than he liked being anywhere else, but he would always pick up his things and be out the door before anyone else as soon as the final bell had rung. 

John always took special care to ensure that he was home before four. Even if Alex and Herc and Laf wanted him to stay and do something with them after school, John would sadly decline and run home, terrified that in stopping for even a moment to talk to them would cause him to be late. 

Today was no different. When he closed the door behind him, relieved at having made it home in time, he was expecting another night like all the rest: his father standing over his shoulder and watching him like a hawk while he did his homework (because how was John supposed to get into law school if he didn't do his homework correctly?) , then dinner and bed by eight thirty. 

When the door shut as John entered, however, he was not expecting to be shoved violently against the entryway wall, Henry Laurens' face less than an inch from his own. As far as John knew, he hadn't gotten below an 'A' on a test recently, because that was one of the only times that Henry resorted to physical violence to get John to do what he wanted. 

"You stupid brat!" Henry screamed, spit flying out of his mouth and landing on John's face. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" 

John could never be sure if his father wanted an answer or not, so he elected to stay silent and not risk making his father angrier. 

This seemed to be the wrong call, as it got him a violent knee in his stomach, causing him to fall to the ground. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten beat, and he had learned after a few times that it would be over more quickly if he simply shut up and took it like the man that he could never seem to be. 

"What did I do, father?" John managed to choke out as Henry kicked him in the stomach. "I'm s-sorry!" 

"Don't fucking pretend that you don't know, you fucking fairy! Mr. Collins saw you out last night on that Hamilton boy's lap! Did you really think he wouldn't tell me?" 

John was about to protest that he and Alex were just friends, even if he knew that his father would be able to sniff out a lie with about as much effort as it would take for a bloodhound to smell a dead rabbit, but before he could speak his father had punched him hard in the head.

John was briefly dizzy, and moved to cover his head with his arms instinctively. 

"Don't you fucking dare! You're my son, and I'll do with you what I will, and if that means I have to keep hitting you until you admit what you did, then I will!" 

John coughed in an effort to hold back the tears that he had never been able to quite stop from coming during these beatings. He had just gotten very good at hiding them. 

"Do you want me to get out the baseball bat, because you know I will!" 

When Henry used his old bat to beat John, he was always very careful to only hit him in places where the bruising could be easily hidden under his clothing, and the threat of the bat always made John crack. 

"I'm sorry, father!" He yelled, and quickly admitted that yes, he had snuck out last night and had been with Alexander, and sat on his lap. 

Henry nodded in satisfaction, but then raised his fist and continued to pummel his vulnerable son, who was at this point fully lying on the ground, and had started to finally cry. 

"No," Henry punctuated each word with a kick to a new part of John's body. "Son. Of. Mine. Is. Going. To. Be. A. Faggot. Slut!" 

He finally backed away, and allowed John to rise shakily to his feet, clutching the doorknob for support. "You are never to speak to Alexander Hamilton ever again." 

"Y-yes father." Said John weakly, thanking a higher power that Henry had chosen to ignore the obvious tears streaming down his cheeks. 

As he picked up his bag and headed for the stairs, his father's voice stopped him once again. 

"Do you know why I do this, John?" 

The younger Laurens shook his head, hoping that wouldn't trigger his father to start yelling again. 

"It's for your own good. Weaklings don't get into law school, and I'll be so happy when you get into law school. Don't you want to make your father happy?" 

John nodded, and Henry smiled. According to John, his smile looked just like that of a crocodile who was about to devour it's helpless prey. 

"Good. Now," he said, switching back to his harsh tone that left no room for argument. "Go upstairs. I'll be up in ten minutes, and I expect that you will have started your homework by then. If not, we'll do this again. And, because you behaved like a slut and a faggot yesterday, you will go to bed without dinner. Do you understand?" 

John nodded again, and limped his way back upstairs. When he shut his door, the broken boy collapsed on his bed and pulled the pillow towards him, hoping that the softness would alleviate some of the burning pain in his body. 

Today was the worst that John had ever been beaten, and he could barely manage to move from the ache of it. But worse than the physical pain were the words echoing in his skull. Henry implying that if John didn't get into law school, he would be a disappointment to his father was something that John already knew, and heard often enough.

But, by calling him a slut and a faggot, Henry had made it clear in no uncertain terms that he already was. 

He almost reached for the phone to call Alex, and have him comfort him, until he remembered one of the worst parts of the beating: the ultimatum that he was never to have contact with his boyfriend again. John knew that it would break Alex's heart when he told him, but he couldn't risk getting hurt any more badly, or worse having Henry go after Alex too. 

John cried harder, shoulders shaking as he wondered how on earth he was supposed to live without Alexander Hamilton, the one person on earth to whom he was enough.

If anyone were to ask John why he let his father hurt him, his answer would have made no sense. At least to someone outside the situation. 

The truth was, John had many answers.  _If he doesn't hurt me, he'll hurt Martha or Jemmy. If I try to fight back, it will only get worse. I'm such a disappointment to him, so I deserve it. He only does it to make me stronger._ But the answer John would most readily have given was simply  _he's my father._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am very sorry about this...


End file.
